


It's Always Back To You

by GraySonOfGotham



Series: Not A Monster, Just Not Human AUs [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Beauty of Nature, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Creepy Fluff, Kind of creepy, Kinda Dark, M/M, Magical Clearing, Nonhuman, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, kinda poetic, nature spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraySonOfGotham/pseuds/GraySonOfGotham
Summary: Bruce is six years old when he stumbles upon a beautiful, magical clearing in the woods.The clearing is the home of a nature spirit, whom Bruce named Clark.





	It's Always Back To You

When Bruce was six, he stumbled on a lake in a small clearing in the woods behind the manor.

His parents were often busy, and Alfred had the manor to run, so Bruce was often left to his own devices when it came to having fun.

Most of the times, he would play with some of the servants’ kids or he would be with tutors all day, but today, it was Saturday, so he had no tutors. Marie, the cook’s daughter, was sick with the flu, and Harold, the gardener’s son was with his mother for the summer, so Bruce had no playmates.

And being the curious minded child he was, Bruce went exploring. He knew he shouldn’t run off without telling anyone, but everyone was too busy, and Bruce knew better than to bother people, so he ran through the beautiful gardens of Wayne Manor and arrived at the edge of the woods.

The woods were always forbidden, and up until then, Bruce had listened. But that day, he was feeling a sense of adventure, and the skies were bright and the birds were chirping. What could go wrong?

So Bruce ran off into the woods, skipping and humming to himself. He knew that he had to be back before lunchtime, so he decided not to go far. But a child was easily distracted. He found a stream that trickled rather merrily and started following it up. After a while, the stream split. One went deeper into the woods, the other seemed to be less scary looking, so Bruce went that way.

Suddenly, his path was blocked by a pile of giant trees that had fallen there. Bruce took it as a challenge and started climbing. He went over one, two, three large trunks. Just as he reached the top, Bruce celebrated too early. His foot slipped and he went tumbling down towards the ground.

As he hit the leafy ground, the floor gave, and Bruce fell through.

He landed at the bottom, in a very soft pile of moss. It didn’t hurt at all. Bruce climbed back to his feet, whimpering lightly. He didn’t know how to get out.

He looked around and saw a light. There seemed to be a small tunnel and a bright white light at the end.

_Bruce… Bruce…_

Bruce started running towards the light. It was his mum! He could hear her calling him! He burst into the light through a curtain of vines and appeared in a beautiful clearing.

Bruce looked around. “Mama?” He called.

But his mother was not there.

The clearing was magical looking. Sunlight streamed through a light canopy of trees. There was a small pool of water, and a small waterfall fed it. The water sparkled and it was mesmerizing. A willow tree blew gently in a warm breeze, its branches bowing gracefully over the mirror waters of the pool, sometimes gently brushings its surface. The grass growing around the pool of water was rich and green. Several large boulders surrounded the pool as well, its surfaces smooth and white. The rich dirt smelled fresh and damp. It was beautiful.

But Bruce was too terrified to notice the beauty.

“Mama?” He asked quietly again.

Only the gentle wind answered.

Bruce turned around, calling again. “Mama?”

 _Bruce… Bruce…_ It was his mom’s beautiful voice again! Bruce turned around and ran towards the water.

“Mama?” He called, standing by the pool. “Mama, where are you?” He looked down in the water and saw himself staring back, eyes watering. His face was dirty and there were leaves in his hair. The gentle breeze caressed his skin, drying his tears.

Bruce sat down, suddenly very tired. His eyes slowly slid shut. “Mama…” he whispered before falling asleep, his head falling down onto the green grass, his small hand falling into the pool.

~

“Master Bruce? Master Bruce!”

Bruce sat up with a gasp, looking around. Alfred was running towards him, his face creased with worry.

“Alfred?” He murmured, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Alfred stooped down and hugged the boy tightly, taking a deep breath. “You’re okay,” he whispered, mostly to himself. He had spent most of the afternoon looking for Bruce with the rest of the staff. Bruce’s parents were away on a business trip, and since they had enough to worry about, Alfred did not call them yet. But he will tell them about the incident later.

“What are you doing here?” Alfred ask, a bit harshly. He frowned at the boy’s wide eyes and dirty face. His clothes were also ruined. “Have I not told you to stay away from the woods?”

“M’sorry, Alfred,” Bruce said, looking on the verge of tears again. “I didn’t mean to! I wanted to play!”

Alfred sighed heavily. He ran his hand through his hair. His tired expression made him look a lot older than his early-thirties. “Next time you want to play, _tell me_ , okay?”

Bruce nodded. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Alfred said, pulling Bruce in for another hug. A moment later, he stood and took the boy’s hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up again, okay? Everyone’s worried sick about you. Are you hungry? You must be.”

Bruce nodded, forgetting about his afternoon’s adventures quite quickly.

And when he did remember them again, he thought it was a dream, so he did not go searching for it, nor did he think much more about it. From that day forward, Bruce also stayed away from the woods.

Then, two years later, his parents died.

Between that night and the next few days to the funeral, Bruce was a mess. He screamed and kicked and yelled at anyone that wasn’t Alfred. He hated the whispers and the pitiful looks. He hated the people who came and told him that “everything was going to be okay”. Their parents didn’t just die. Nothing was okay! Every night, Bruce would not go to sleep unless Alfred was there.

Then, the day of the funeral came. During the procession, Bruce couldn’t take it anymore. He tore away from Alfred and ran. Alfred ran after him, calling his name, but Bruce wasn’t listening. He sprinted into the woods as fast as his legs could carry him. Soon, he lost Alfred behind him.

Bruce ran and ran until his lungs burned and he was lost. He didn’t know where he was, but he didn’t care.

He tripped over a root, and slid into a large hole in the ground, rolling down, head over heels. He tumbled down into a soft moss bed.

Wiping at tears, Bruce looked up. The opening was at least eight feet above him. There was no way he could climb out. He could barely see the grey skies through the trees either. Then Bruce heard it.

_Bruce… Bruce…_

This jolted a memory in Bruce. Years ago, when he was a lot younger, six. He had had this dream…

 _Bruce…_ the gentle whisper of a voice was getting a little more urgent.

Almost as if possessed, Bruce stood up and started following the voice towards a light. He reached the end of the short tunnel and pushed through a veil of vines.

It was the beautiful clearing of his dreams.

It was sunny here, like summer never left and it wasn’t almost winter. He stepped into the warm sun, his tears drying quickly. He felt a lot calmer here. There was no noise, aside from the swishing of wind through the trees, and splashing of the waterfall.

Bruce approached the edge of the water like he had in his dream. He sat down slowly, feeling the rich dirt give a little as he sat. It was warm, and Bruce wanted to sit there forever, with his face turned up towards the beautiful sun that wasn’t too harsh.

_Bruce…_

Bruce opened his eyes, looking around. “Who’s there?” He asked, fear slowly creeping back into his voice.

_I’m not a who._

Bruce didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

_A better question would be “what” am I._

“Okay, what are you?” Bruce sat up straighter, looking around.

_I’m the spirit of these woods, of course. I’ve been watching you for while._

“Um… okay.” That didn’t sound creepy at all.

_I want to be your friend, Bruce. You seem like a very smart human._

And as a child, Bruce was quite gullible. “Why do you want to be my friend?” He asked quietly. “Everyone else thinks I’m so easily breakable.”

_See? You’re very smart. I don’t think you’re very delicate, Bruce. I can tell that you have a strong will. I’m not everyone._

Bruce considered it. “Okay,” he finally said. “You can be my friend.”

There was a slightly stronger gust of wind that shook the leaves of the trees a bit harder. The breeze touched Bruce’s face, and the smallest ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

_Then tell me, child, why were you crying? I have seen you twice, and you were crying both times._

Bruce’s heart clenched. Hs shrank in on himself again. He didn’t want to talk about it.

_You can tell me, Bruce. I promise. I’m your friend now, remember?_

Bruce gulped. “Today… was my parents’ funeral.” His voice cracked.

_Oh, Bruce. You parents seemed very kind. I saw them with you often. You were all very happy. But you’re not happy anymore. You should be happy, Bruce._

“I just want my parents back,” he said harshly, tears appearing in his eyes again.

 _Don’t cry, Bruce,_ the gentle whisper crooned. _Here, stick your hand in my waters. You’ll feel better, I promise._

Bruce looked at the water, his own teary face staring back. He reached into the water, his fingers breaking the surface. A surge of pure calm rushed up his arm and through is whole body. The tenseness in his muscles disappeared. It felt good.

_Do you feel better now?_

Bruce nodded.

_Good. Now, go to sleep, child. Rest. I will watch over you for as long as you want. Once you are rested, you may go home. But for now… sleep._

And so Bruce slept, his hand and a few strands of his black hair floating in the shimmering waters of the pool.

Since that day, Bruce had been back a number of times. Each time he was feeling down, he would run off into the woods. And there’s no specific path he takes. Sometimes, he runs into the woods from the north side of the manor, sometimes from the gardens. Each path was different, but each time, he would reach the same place.

The third time Bruce goes to the clearing, he had just had a fight with Alfred. The manor was only him and Alfred now. The other servants had left, and most of the manor had been closed off.

_Hello, Bruce._

Bruce sat down at his usual perch. Most of his anger had dissipated during his run, but he still wanted to stay while. The sun was feeling especially nice. It had rained in Gotham for the past week, so Bruce was kind of missing the warmth.

It had been three months since his last visit.

“Hi,” Bruce said, a bit breathlessly. He was nine now, his birthday a week ago. He paused a moment. “Hey, what do I call you? You know my name. Do you have a name?”

The trees rustled. Bruce knew that this was the spirit’s form of laughter. _I do have a name, but it does not translate to your language. So you can call me whatever you want._

Bruce thought a moment. “Clark.”

_Clark… that sounds nice. Who is Clark?_

Bruce shrugged. “No one. That’s why I chose it. So it’s special.”

_Thank you, Bruce. Now, why did you come here today?_

Bruce sighed. “I had a fight with Alfred. He thought I was too young to be out on my own.” There was a moment’s pause. Then Bruce said. “I want to travel the world.”

_That is a big dream, young one._

“Yeah, I know,” Bruce said, slouching a little. “But I’ve… I’ve decided something.” He bit his lower lip. There was no answer, so Bruce continued, confiding in the spirit, newly christened Clark. “I’m going to rid my city of crime. So no one will end up losing their parents like me again.”

 _I do not doubt you, Bruce,_ Clark said gently. _I think you can accomplish anything you set your mind to._

Bruce smiled. “Thank you, Clark. You’re my only friend, you know? None of the kids at Gotham Academy seems to like me. They still think I’m breakable.” He sighed in frustration. “I’m glad you understand.”

_Of course, Bruce. I’m always here for you._

“Can I touch your waters again?” He asked.

A gentle rustling of the trees again. _You are always welcome to, Bruce. You may run free in this clearing. Swim in my waters, swing from my trees, jump from my waterfall, climb on my boulders. You are free here, my child._

Bruce smile. He quickly untied his boots and took off his socks. He rolled up the legs of his pants evenly and dipped one foot into the sparkling waters. Calm rushed through is body as usual, and he placed his other foot in as well, relishing in the cool waters. He wiggled his toes and giggled.

“How are you waters so blue?” He asked, kicking a little, splashing water all over the place.

 _I’m completely free from pollution. The surrounding forest, however, I cannot say the same for._ Clark sounded sad. _This is what is keeping me alive. I secure myself here. If this place becomes polluted, the rest of the forest will also die._

“I don’t want you to die too, Clark,” Bruce said with desperation in his voice. “Don’t die.”

_I won’t, Bruce. I have lived three thousand years, and I plan on living for a lot longer._

“You’re three thousand years old?” Bruce asked in surprise.

_I believe so, yes._

“Aren’t you lonely all by yourself here?”

_No, not particularly. I have ways to keep myself occupied. And now, I have you._

“Oh, that’s good.” Bruce watched the blue water distort his feet for a while. “I think I’m going to take a nap now,” he said.

_Okay. I will make sure no one hurts you._

Bruce hummed contently. “Okay. G’night, Clark.”

_Sleep well, Bruce._

And Bruce dozed off with the sun in his face and the wind against his cheeks, and he was happy.

When Bruce awoke, he was standing at the edge of the forest, by the gardens. Shaking himself awake, Bruce walked into the manor, ready to apologize to Alfred.

The fourth time Bruce goes to Clark, it is with good news, an entire year later.

As Bruce barreled through the tunnel, he was shouting happily. “Clark! Clark!”

As he burst into the clearing, he was met with the same warmth and his heart swelled with happiness.

_Hello again, Bruce. You seem happy today. Why are you happy?_

Bruce didn’t sit this time. He danced under the shade of the trees, his smile wide and bursting. He traced his fingers along the long hair of the willow tree. “I got accepted into a school in Europe. It’s very hard to get into. I’m leaving in a month!”

The breeze stilled. Bruce’s smile slowly shrank. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a tad fearfully. Clark had never done that before. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

 _I am,_ Clark said. But his voice sounded different. _I’m very glad you’re happy, Bruce. But must you leave?_

Oh. Bruce sat down, and shucked off his shoes. He tossed his jacket over his head and loosened his tie and tossed that aside too. Dressed on his underwear and his shirt, Bruce wade into the water. A small breeze started up again.

Bruce flipped onto his back as he floated towards the middle of the pool. He didn’t move his arms at all, but he could feel Clark supporting him, keeping him afloat. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you either, Clark,” Bruce said. “But I need to do this. I will learn so much. I’ll travel all around the world and I will gather so much information. Then I will come back, and I will make Gotham a better place,” Bruce said with certainty.

The water lapped over his stomach gently, his white shirt now transparent and sticking to his stomach.

_And you’ll come back to me?_

“Yes, I will come back to you.”

_I will wait for you, Bruce. As long as it takes._

Bruce smiled and his eyes slid shut. “I’ll come back for you, Clark. I’ll be back.”

And he fell asleep, rocking gently in the water.

Bruce was gone for ten years. There were times during his travels when he came back to visit Alfred, but those few days were always short and busy. Bruce never had time to go see Clark. In fact, he started forgetting about Clark. After eight years, Bruce finally returned home for good.

He started working on his plan with fix Gotham. Alfred didn’t exactly approve, but he supported him nonetheless. Bruce took over Wayne Enterprises, building his public reputation. Then at night, he built the Bat.

And two years later, he went out into the streets of Gotham for the first time. And after coming back from the first patrol of many, Bruce felt sick. He shed the Batman suit and ran into the woods, much faster than before. He found himself in Clark’s clearing in no time.

It was dark though. Apparently, the sunshine wasn’t eternal.

“Clark,” Bruce croaked, his throat raspy from throwing up.

A breeze blew in his sweaty face. _Bruce? Is that you? You have returned!_

Bruce collapsed on his knees.

_What’s wrong, Bruce? What happened? You are much older now. How much time has passed?_

“Ten years, Clark,” Bruce answered. “It’s been ten years.”

Clark was silent for a while. _But you came back. You kept your promise, and I kept mine. I waited patiently for you. Now, why are you so upset this time? Come, Bruce. Swim with me for a while._

Bruce complied. He tossed away his sweaty clothes, glad to be free. He stepped into the warm water, and submerged himself completely, feeling much better when he came back up for air. He lay eagle spread in the water, Clark supporting him. He looked up at the stars, but Bruce knew that it was actually cloudy in Gotham.

And that night, Bruce told Clark everything he’d been doing, everything he’d learned. He told Clark some things that he didn’t even tell Alfred.

And Clark listened patiently, all the while, soothing him.

 _You’ve had a long ten years,_ Clark said. _Maybe it’s time for some well-deserved rest._

 Bruce sighed. “I should get back. Alfred will be worried.”

_But Bruce, when have I ever let you get lost before? I lead you here every time, and I lead you home. You are never harmed. There’s nothing wrong with taking a short nap. You deserve it._

Bruce relaxed again. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” He blinked slowly. “Thank you, Clark.”

 _Of course,_ Clark whispered. _Always here for you._

And true to his word, Bruce awoke at the edge of the forest just as the sun was rising. He walked into the manor, soaking wet. Alfred looked him up and down, shook his head, but said nothing. He guided him off to bed instead.

Over the course of the years, Bruce went to Clark quite often. He went when the anonymous man fell into the vat of chemicals and he could not save him. He went when he first adopted Dick Grayson, an orphan like himself. He went when he and Dick first fought. He went when Jason Todd died in an explosion. In fact, Bruce was there all week when that happened.

Clark let him stay, seeming to know what Bruce needed without him saying it. During his third night there, Bruce asked a question that he had been wondering for a long time.

“You’re a spirit, yes?”

_I am._

“So are you like a ghost that possess the water and trees?”

_I am the water and the trees, Bruce._

“But do you have your own form?”

_Would you like me to have a form?_

Bruce shrugged, rolling onto his stomach. The boulder was still warm, and it felt grounding to lie on.

_I can manifest a form, yes._

“Can I see you, then?” Bruce whispered.

He watched as the pool of water started churning. It created a whirlpool, and from the middle of the pool, tendrils of water rose. It molded into the vague shape of a human. Leaves caught the invisible wind and danced around the form.

Then, it all settled, and floating in front of Bruce was Clark. He was made of water, and quite see through. He had a tall form, but somewhat lithe. His hair was a mess of light green and olive green grasses. Two beautiful blue stones were his eyes.

“Hello,” Bruce said, sitting up.

 _“Hello,_ ” Clark said, his voice still seeming to come from all around Bruce, but his watery mouth moved. _“Is this okay?”_

Bruce smiled. “Yeah. It’s great.” He scooted over on the boulder and patted the space in front of him. Clark drifted over and settled in front of him. Bruce watched in wonder as the boulder did not get wet. Bruce held up a hand, and Clark copied his movement. Their hands touched.

Bruce was surprised because he was expecting Clark to feel like water, as he was made of. But he felt like human flesh, warm and pliable. Bruce slowly reached out and touched Clark’s shoulder, up his neck, and cupped his cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

 _“Thank you,”_ Clark said. _“I find you quite attractive as well.”_

Bruce leaned forward and he found himself kissing Clark. And Clark was pushing back. Bruce couldn’t get enough. Clark was actually tangible. He felt solid, as solid as the rock below him, the grass he used to sit on, as real as himself. It was amazing.

He rolled on top of Clark, their foreheads pressed together tightly. Bruce was breathing hard as he stared down at Clark. The night sky reflected in Clark’s stone blue eyes, and it was like another world.

Bruce kissed him hard again.

“I want to stay with you forever,” Bruce murmured.

 _“You can,”_ Clark said.

Bruce pulled away. “But I’m not ready. I’m not done with my plan. I- I need to finish what I started.”

Clark smiled sadly. _“I understand.”_

“Okay. Good.”

Bruce still visited Clark a lot. Clark almost always manifested a physical form now, and they would do unspeakable thing with only the everlasting sun or the eternal stars watching them.

Bruce went when Tim Drake appeared in his life. Bruce went when Jason came back to life. Bruce spent a lot of time there when Damian showed up. Bruce stayed with Clark for three days straight after Alfred died.

And finally, after many many years of waiting, Bruce walked through the curtain of vines and looked around the clearing. The sun fell on his skin, and it felt good.

“Clark?” Bruce called. “Darling?”

A swishing of the trees, and Clark appeared in front of him. Bruce kissed him lightly.

_“Bruce. How have you been? You look a bit tired.”_

Bruce smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m tired. Tired, but happy.” He shed his jacket. “I think I’m ready to take a nap now.”

_“You know you’re always welcome here. I will bring you back when you have replenished.”_

Bruce smiled, cupping Clark’s watery yet solid cheek. He whispered against his lips, “No, I’m ready to sleep now.”

In a whirl, Clark swept him towards the blue waters. Bruce laughed lightly, splashing in after him. Clark kissed him hard, pushing him against rocky wall. They fell through the waterfall, the water beating down on their heads.

“I love you, Clark,” Bruce breathed, panting hard. His hair was matted again his head, mostly white now.

_“I love you too, Bruce. Forever.”_

“Forever.”

They made love one last time, slow and unhurried because now, they had all the time in the world.

When they finally came with gasps and sweet murmurs, Clark laid Bruce down on his back in the water. He kissed Bruce’s lips lightly, feeling Bruce smile softly, closing his eyes. Clark’s physical form disappeared, but Bruce could still feel him all around him.

As Bruce drifted towards the center of the pool, he felt calm. He was happy.

He slowly sank into the water, the water level rising, over his eyes, over his nose. He didn’t struggle. As he sank even lower, his lungs started to burn, but Bruce did not try to breathe. He opened his eyes slowly, looking up at the clear blue water from a different angle.

He smiled, closed his eyes for the last time, and let the darkness take him.

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from a horror prompt I saw, but as I wrote it, it was just kind of creepy, yet sweet, yet creepy. Kind of poetic, but I don't really know if I like it yet. It's different, is what it is. Hope you enjoyed anyway!


End file.
